Worse Than A Curse
by purplepagoda
Summary: When Ingrid begins questioning Wendy about magical fallout their conversation ends up somewhere neither of them expect. Can Wendy help Ingrid make sense of everything? And how long can Ingrid keep her secret from Joanna? This may be their biggest obstacle yet. What if this life really is different? What if this life brings new life?
1. Magical Morning

Wendy rounds the top of the stairs, and heads for Ingrid's room. She finds the door slightly ajar, and pushes it open.

"Ingrid?" She calls out. She receives no response. Both Joanna, and Freya are already downstairs for breakfast. Wendy exits the room, and heads to the bathroom. She stops outside the closed door, and knocks.

"Ingrid are you in there?"

"I'll be out in a minute," Ingrid responds from the other side of the door.

"Your mom made breakfast, we're all waiting on you."

"You can eat without me. I'll be down in a little while."

"Ingrid, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insists.

Wendy eyes the door suspiciously. She touches the doorknob, and makes a quick decision. She twists the knob, and pushes the door open. She enters the bathroom, allowing the door to close behind her. She finds Ingrid in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

"Sweetie what are you doing in here?"

Ingrid doesn't answer, she doesn't even look up. She keeps her eyes cast downward. She stares at the flood tiles. It's nearly time for her to go to work, and she's still in her pajamas.

"Are you planning on camping out in the bathroom all day?"

"Wendy, go away!" Ingrid insists.

"Are you hiding out in here?"

"Maybe," she shrugs still not meeting Wendy's glance.

Wendy moves towards her. She takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub, positioning herself next to Ingrid.

"Is something wrong?"

"Please just leave me alone," Ingrid begs.

"If you don't come down for breakfast your mom is going to notice. She is going to think that something is wrong."

"My whole life is wrong," Ingrid growls.

"Are you feeling sick?"

Ingrid looks up at her. She shoots her a look of irritation. "At this particular moment I am feeling annoyed."

"You want me to leave you alone?"

"Would it kill you?"

Wendy shrugs, "It might, and I'm not really willing to take the chance," she quips hoping to illicit a smile from Ingrid. Ingrid's facial expression remains unchanged. Her brow is furrowed, and her frown lines are rather evident.

"Tell me what's bothering you, and I'll leave you alone."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Of course it is."

"You'll just tell her," Ingrid argues.

"I will admit that I will, probably, at some point, or another tell your mother whatever it is that you tell me."

"So why should I tell you?"

"I won't tell her right now."

"Wendy it's complicated, and I really don't want to talk about it."

"So you would rather hide out in the bathroom?"

"I'm not hiding out in here."

"So what are you doing in here? Avoiding the inevitable?"

"Please just let it go."

"You should know by now that letting things go is not one of my strong suits. Maybe it is a character flaw, and I seem to have very little control over it."

"Maybe you should try harder."

"Ingrid if you have a problem you should tell me what it is. Maybe I can help you."

"I doubt that," she replies with a solemn look on her face.

Wendy scrutinizes Ingrid's facial expression, and body language. She notices her hair is pulled in a ponytail, which is unusual for her.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Wendy shakes her head, "I don't know, but you don't look good. Ingrid if you're feeling sick maybe you should go back to bed. I can call in to work for you."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Wendy nods.

"Is there such a thing as magical splatter?"

"Magical splatter? What are you talking about? Give me an example."

"You cast a spell on someone else, and because of your physical proximity to that person part of it rubs off on you."

"Ingrid I think that you've lost it."

"I'm serious," she admits.

"I have never heard of that, but I suppose that it is possible. With magic almost anything is possible."

"Don't say that."

"That isn't what you wanted to hear?"

"It's what I was afraid of."

"Afraid of, what do you mean? Ingrid what spell are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Tell me," Wendy begs.

"The whole situation is completely impossible, anyway," she argues.

"What situation? Sweetie, what's going on?"

"It's never happened in the past, so I'm sure that it can't happen now."

"Ingrid, please explain to me what you're talking about."

"I don't know how to explain it."

"Why not?"

"Because none of it makes any sense."

"Sometimes things don't make sense, but that doesn't mean that they aren't possible."

"I don't want this to be possible."

"Do you think that you have some sort of magical ailment, or something?"

"Worse."

"A magical plague."

"I am already cursed," she points out.

"So it was a poor choice of words. Why don't you tell me what you think has happened, and I will tell you if it's possible."

"As much as I don't want it to be possible, I am fairly certain that the evidence points to the fact that it is."

"Evidence? What evidence?"

"The evidence that the universe hates me."

"The universe does not hate you," Wendy argues.

"I wouldn't be so certain."

"Why not?"

"Because this is worse than any curse. It's worse than dying."

"How can you even say that?"

"Dying is inevitable, for everyone."

"Not true."

"For normal people," Ingrid revises.

"You're not a normal person. You're special."

"Which means I have magical problems, and non-magical ones, too."


	2. Unanswered Questions

"So what is the problem this morning?"

"I've been puking my guts up, for hours."

"That's why you've been in the bathroom so long? Sweetie if you're sick just call in sick to work, and go back to bed. Why would you fret over a little stomach bug?"

"It's more than that," Ingrid admits.

"Do you think that it's food poisoning? Botulism," Wendy jokes.

"I wish."

"Wow, you are in an awful mood this morning."

"I can't help it."

"Are you always this cranky when you're sick?"

"Food poisoning, and botulism are self limiting."

"And potentially deadly," Wendy adds.

"So is this."

"Could you kill the suspense, and just tell me what the problem is?"

"I cast a spell on Barb."

"And?"

"What if there is such a thing as magical fallout?"

"Is it fallout, or splatter?"

"I don't think it matters what we call it. All I am saying is that I think it's a legitimate concept."

"What makes you think that?"

"I just do."

"Ingrid what kind of spell did you cast on Barb?"

"You know."

Wendy cocks her eyebrow, "A fertility spell? Ingrid I don't think that you have to worry about that."

"How can you be sure? Are you just saying that because of my limited lifespan, or do you have actual proof to back it up?"

"It's not possible. Those kinds of spells only enhance odds. Ingrid, you don't have to worry about it. Barb and her husband were trying to get pregnant. You just gave them a boost. I am fairly certain you haven't been trying to get pregnant."

"Of course not."

"Then why are you worried about it?"

"What if it was a possibility?"

"I think that it is outside of that realm," Wendy argues.

"How certain are you?"

"Why?"

"Would your opinion change if I told you that Adam and I..."

Wendy cuts her off, "Whatever the two of you did, or did not do, is not something that I need to hear about."

"Would it make it more possible?"

Wendy shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe, but I seriously doubt it."

"Then you can look."

"Look?" Wendy furrows her brow as she looks at Ingrid, "Look at what? Do you think that I can tell just by looking at you?"

Ingrid rolls her eyes, "No, on the counter."

Wendy rises from her seat on the edge of the bathtub. She moves towards the counter, and stares at the box. She turns and looks at Ingrid with a questioning look. She arches her eyebrow.

"You really think that it's possible?" She questions Ingrid.

"A couple of months ago I would have told you that magic wasn't possible."

"That is different."

"How?"

"There has always been magic."

"Please," Ingrid begs.

"Okay," Wendy nods in agreement. She takes a step closer to the counter. She looks at the cardboard box. She notes that the box has already been opened.

"I assume there is a test inside, or something?"

"Yes," Ingrid confirms.

"Did you already take it?"

"Half an hour ago," Ingrid reveals.

"Okay," Wendy backs away from the counter, and heads over to the back of the toilet. She pulls a tissue from the Kleenex box. She returns to the counter, with tissue in hand. She reaches inside of the box, for the test.

"What am I looking for? Pink, or blue? A positive or a negative?"

"It's a digital read out," Ingrid answers.

"No room for error? Gotcha."

"Can you just look already?"

Wendy nods, and pulls out the plastic stick. She carefully studies the result before her. She reads, and re-reads the result to herself. She places the stick on the bathroom counter on top of the tissue. She looks at Ingrid in the mirror.

"Well? What does it say?"

"Maybe you should go back to bed. You look tired."

"Wendy just tell me."

"How long have you been feeling sick?"

"Days, does it matter?"

"You should definitely go back to bed, and call in sick to work."

"Wendy!"

"When did you buy this?"

"This morning."

"What time did you get up this morning?"

"Three o'clock."

"Oh."

"Wendy just tell me what it says!" She insists.

"Does it really matter? You look so tired, I think you should just go back to bed."

"Just tell me!"

Wendy grabs the stick off the counter, and hands it to Ingrid.

"You should see for yourself," Wendy answers as she lowers herself onto the edge of the bathtub once again.

Ingrid looks at the plastic stick, and then looks at Wendy. Wendy stares at her, blankly.

"Now what?"

Wendy shrugs, "I don't know."

"You're supposed to know what to do," Ingrid responds on the verge of tears.


	3. Shifting The Paradigm

"How would I know what to do?"

"You said you would help me solve my problem."

"Ingrid this is beyond my problem solving abilities," she reveals.

"How am I going to make this go away?"

"You want to make it go away?" Wendy's eyes widen.

"I meant the box, and the test. I don't want my mom to see them."

"I can take care of that."

"Are you sure?"

"Go back to bed. I'll tell your mom that you're not feeling good."

"And you'll take care of the evidence?"

"Yes."

"How can this be happening?" Ingrid wonders.

Wendy shakes her head, "I don't know."

"I can't believe this. I..."

Wendy kisses the top of her head, "It's going to be okay. We'll figure it out."

"Please don't tell mom."

"I won't, but you have to."

"Not yet."

"Soon. This could potentially be a humongous problem."

"Weighing in at roughly eight pounds when all is said and done."

Wendy smiles at her, "I'll take care of this, you go back to bed. I don't want you mom to come up here, and find all of this."

Ingrid nods, and rises from her seat. She exits the room, and heads across the hallway to her bedroom. She closes the door partway, and makes a beeline for the bed. She crawls underneath her covers, pulling them over her head.

In the bathroom Wendy stands at the counter, with the door closed. She takes one more look at the plastic stick. A single word is illuminated on the digital screen. In black print is the proof. She stuffs the test into the box, and says a few words. The box, and it's contents disappear into thin air. She washes her hands, and exits the bathroom.

When she reaches the kitchen her sister sits at the table, and eyes her suspiciously. Freya has already left for work. Joanna sips her tea.

"What took you so long?"

"Ingrid isn't feeling good."

"She's not coming down for breakfast?"

"No," Wendy shakes her head.

"Wendy what's going on?"

"Nothing," Wendy insists.

"Then why do you look so guilty?"

"I think that I woke Ingrid up when I went upstairs. Like I said, she's not feeling good."

"Things will be a lot easier if you just tell me the truth, now."

"You already ate?" She tries to change the subject.

"We waited as long as we could. I put yours in the microwave so it wouldn't get cold."

Wendy makes her way over to the microwave, and retrieves her plate. Joanna looks down at her watch.

"I should get going. Is Ingrid doing to work today?"

"I don't think so."

"You'll keep an eye on her?" Joanna questions, eyeing her sister suspiciously.

"Of course," Wendy agrees.

* * *

Hours later Ingrid finally makes it downstairs. Wendy joins her in the kitchen, as she takes a seat at the table.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

"Why bother? It won't stay there."

"Maybe just some toast," Wendy offers.

"I'm fine," Ingrid insists.

Wendy grabs a glass, and pours some water into it. She sits it on the table next to Ingrid.

"I don't want anything."

"You need to drink some water, or you'll get dehydrated."

Ingrid looks up at her, "That is what you're worried about?"

Wendy pulls out the chair next to her, and parks herself in it.

"Among other things."

"Among other things?" Ingrid arches her eyebrows, "I defying all odds here, and you're concerned about me becoming dehydrated?"

"Drink the water!"

"Fine," she folds her arms across her chest, and slowly sips the cold water. When she's finished she place the empty glass on the tabletop. She looks at Wendy, "Are you satisfied?"

"Did you call work to let them know you weren't coming?"

"No," Ingrid admits, "I fell asleep," her face twisting into a look of panic.

"I called Barb. She said that she could take care of things."

"Wendy what am I going to do?"

"Just wait it out. Maybe this is all a fluke," she suggests.

"Or maybe this thing will pop out tomorrow."

"Adam was mortal, so gestation shouldn't be affected."

"Shouldn't be?"

Wendy shrugs, "I don't think it will be."

"You don't think that it will be? I am still trying to wrap my brain around how this is even possible."

"I know."

"Adam is dead."

"I know."

"Was dead," Ingrid adds.

"Wait, what?"

"He was..."

Wendy cuts her off, "He was dead when all of this transpired?"

"Yes. You can understand my complete, and utter confusion. I have a limited lifespan, and Adam was a ghost when this happened. I don't know how any of this is even remotely possible."

"You know who could probably answer all of your questions?"

"Don't say it," Ingrid warns.

"Your mother could probably answer all of your questions."

"What makes you think that?"

"She has actually been pregnant before," she reminds her, "Many times, over many centuries."

"I don't want her to know," Ingrid argues.

"Don't you think that you are going to have to tell her at some point?"

"Maybe not."

"How do you figure?"

"I might be dead by then," Ingrid points out.

"Everything about this life has been different for you. I think that something in the universe has shifted."

"But it doesn't mean that it is a shift to the good. This could all be some sort of terrible plot twist in what inevitably always ends in tragedy."

"Or maybe not. Maybe this is good news," Wendy tries to convince Ingrid, despite her own doubts.


	4. The Cards You're Dealt

"Good news? Wendy I am pregnant, with the child of a dead man. Don't you think that is some cruel twist of fate?"

"I can admit that it is definitely a surprising one, but I won't go as far to say that it is a cruel twist. Neither of us know how this is going to turn out."

"It turns out with Freya, and I both dead."

"Ingrid you don't know that."

"History has a way of repeating itself in this family."

"This is new."

"Who is to say that I won't die during childbirth?"

"No one."

"Exactly."

"But, of all of your lives this is the best one for you to get pregnant in."

"How can you even say that?"

"Advances in medical technology, and low infant mortality rates."

"I can't talk about this anymore. I am going back to bed."

"You do know that if you don't want to arouse any more suspicion from your mother, you have to go to work tomorrow."

"I can't afford to miss anymore work."

"You never miss work," Wendy responds.

"Not what I meant. I am having a baby."

"And?"

"I still live with my mother," Ingrid adds.

"It will all work out."

"Now you're just lying," Ingrid shakes her head as she pushes her chair away from the table. She vacates her seat, and heads to the kitchen sink. She places her empty glass inside, and heads for the stairs. When she reaches her room she crawls back into bed, once again pulling the covers over her head.

* * *

Freya arrives home before Joanna. After a brief conversation with Wendy she heads up the stairs to check on Ingrid. She enters the bedroom, and takes a seat on her sister's bed. She nudges Ingrid awake. Ingrid pushes aside her covers, and rolls towards her sister.

"Why are you home from work?"

"I got off half an hour ago," Freya reveals.

"Oh."

"Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm sick."

"What's wrong with you? You never miss work."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You look kind of green," Freya points out.

"Go away."

"Did you sleep all day?"

"So what if I did?"

"Mom will be home soon."

"And?"

"Tell me what's going on with you, before she gets home."

"Close the door," Ingrid insists.

Freya gets up to close the door, and then returns to Ingrid's side. She eyes her sisters suspiciously.

"What's with the ponytail? You haven't worn a ponytail since the fourth grade when some boy stuck gum in your hair."

"Thank you for you kind words of encouragement when I feel completely terrible."

"I'm sorry. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"You won't believe it when I do."

"Tell me," Freya begs.

"Fine, but you can't tell anyone."

"Okay," Freya agrees.

"Especially not mom. I don't want her to know."

"I won't tell her, I promise."

"I'm pregnant."

Freya starts laughing hysterically. Ingrid's serious expression doesn't dissipate, instead it intensifies. The smirk on Freya's face quickly disappears.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"How did that happen?"

Ingrid shrugs, "I don't know."

"Are you sure that this isn't all in your head?"

"Yes."

"How sure?"

"I took a test."

"I can't believe this."

"Can we talk about this later? Right now I just want to sleep, I'm exhausted."

"You haven't done anything all day."

"Please."

"Fine." Freya leaves the room. She descends the stairs, and ends up in the kitchen. When she finds the kitchen empty she heads into the dining room. She finds Wendy sitting at the dining room table with the book on her lap, and tarot cards in front of her. Freya takes a seat in the chair adjacent to her.

"Wendy we have a problem," Freya reveals.

"I know," she points to the cards.

"With Ingrid," she clarifies.

"I know. These are her cards."

"What do they say?"

"What did she tell you?" Wendy quizzes.

Freya points to one of the cards, "New life?"

"I've dealt her cards half a dozen times today, and they haven't changed."

"You should put those away before mom gets home," Freya suggests.

Wendy puts the deck back into the hutch. She returns the book to its resting place, too. Freya looks at her expectantly.

"So what does this mean?"

Wendy shrugs, "That we can't let your mother read Ingrid's cards."

"What does this mean for Ingrid?"

"What does, what mean for Ingrid?" Joanna asks, entering the room.

Freya looks up at her mother, who stands behind Wendy's chair, like a deer caught in the headlights. She struggles to come up with a response.

"Her missing work," Wendy fibs.

Joanna goes over to the hutch, and removes the tarot cards. She takes a seat next to her sister, and across the dining room table from her daughter. She deals the cards for Ingrid. She studies them carefully, and then looks at the two women in the room with her. She looks at Freya, and then to Wendy. She shakes her head.

"That can't be right."

"Maybe you should deal them again," Freya suggests.

Joanna nods, and deals the cards again, with the same results. Without a words she shoves her chair away from the table, and exits the room. She heads to the stairs, with a look of determination in her eyes. She climbs the stairs, and calls, "Ingrid!"


	5. Deadman's Child

She sits up in bed, having being abruptly awakened from her sleep. She reaches over, and flips on the lamp that rests on her bedside stand. She hears the stairs creak as someone climbs them. She rubs her eyes, and hears her mother's voice calling for her. She looks at her bedroom door, which is partially open. Within seconds the door opens further, and her mother stands in the doorway with a bewildered look on her face.

"What's wrong?" Ingrid questions as Joanna draws closer.

"Why don't you tell me?" Joanna insists, taking a seat on the edge of Ingrid's bed.

"I don't know."

"Ingrid Beauchamp! Do not lie to me."

"Why are you so upset?"

"When I got home I found Wendy, and Freya in the dining room."

"So?"

"I overheard part of their conversation."

"Mom..." Ingrid tries to reason with her.

"Then I read your cards."

"I thought you didn't like to read cards for your loved ones."

"I don't, but it was apparent that Wendy had already done so, and that she found out something I wouldn't like."

"So you thought reading my cards would shed light on the situation?"

"They were talking about you when I got home."

"I am sure that the cards say the same thing that they always do, I die."

"Not this time," Joanna reveals.

"You're saying my fate has changed?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

Ingrid shrugs, "I don't know."

"Ingrid if there is something that you want to tell me I suggest that you do it now," Joanna responds, in a harsh tone.

Ingrid swallows hard, "There is nothing that I want to tell you."

"You're sure that there is nothing you should tell me?"

"You asked if there was something I wanted to tell you," Ingrid points out.

"Is there something that I need to know?"

"It seems to me that you already know."

"I want to hear it from you," Joanna insists.

"What did the cards say?" Ingrid cocks an eyebrow.

"I saw..." she trails off as she stares at her daughter's face. She reaches out, and tucks stray strands of hair behind Ingrid's ear.

"What did you see?" Ingrid wonders.

"I saw new life."

"New life? That could mean anything, couldn't it?"

"It could, but from what I heard of the conversation Wendy, and Freya were having the meaning seems pretty specific."

"Mom, what do you want me to say?"

"Why don't you start with the truth."

Ingrid shakes her head, "I can't."

"Why didn't you go to work today?"

"I was sick."

"Are you going to work tomorrow?"

"Of course," Ingrid confirms.

"Even if you're sick?"

"I can't afford to miss anymore work."

"You rarely miss work. I think that Barb can hold down the fort for a few days."

"I really don't want to talk about this," Ingrid argues.

"I don't think that we have much of a choice."

Ingrid hears the back door close. She climbs out of bed, and heads over to the window. She pulls back the curtain, and watches as Freya, and Wendy climb into Freya's car.

"Where are they going?" Ingrid questions.

"Who knows. Ingrid let's not worry about them right now. I want to talk about you."

She turns to face her mother, "I don't want to talk about me."

"Ingrid, come on."

Ingrid crosses the room, and walks around the end of the bed. She takes a seat next to her mother.

"You're still in your pajamas," Joanna points out.

"I know."

"Are you starting to feel better, yet?"

Ingrid avoids eye contact as she shakes her head, "I don't think I'm ever going to feel better."

"Ingrid I know you don't want to talk about this, but you don't have much of a choice."

"The universe has made some kind of mistake," Ingrid insists.

"Is that what you think? You think that this is some sort of mistake?"

Ingrid shrugs, finally making eye contact, "It seems like a cruel joke."

"I know."

"I don't understand how this could happen."

"Say it," she insists.

"History says that I should be dead by now," Ingrid points out.

"But you're not."

"So now we're adding a cruel plot twist to the story?"

"Is that what you think this is?"

"Mom," she breaks eye contact, "I am pregnant."

"I know."

"How could this happen? It's not supposed to be possible. None of this makes any sense. I just don't understand."

"I know that all of this is difficult, but I need you to explain to me how you think this happened."

Ingrid shrugs, "I don't know."

"You have to have some idea," Joanna insists.

"I cast a fertility spell on Barb."

"You think that it rubbed off on you, or something?"

"I don't know."

"I think we can rule that out as a possibility."

"Can we? How else could this have happened?"

"Who..." Joanna stops before she can finish the thought.

"Adam."

"I didn't know that the two of you were..." she shudders at the thought.

"We weren't. Not while he was alive."

"Oh."

"You can see why I'm so confused. This isn't supposed to be even a remote possibility. Somehow I wound up pregnant with a dead man's baby."


End file.
